


RISIBLE (Night Guard scenarios)

by Mixnote



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: F/M, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-28 13:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixnote/pseuds/Mixnote
Summary: Okay, so not all love stories are the same. Sometimes a knight has to save a maiden. Sometimes a fair woman falls in love with a monster. But this... you're pretty sure this is one weirdo falling for another....*MODERN AU!Contains: Scott (Phone guy), Mike, Vincent (William Vincent Afton aka Purple guy), Jeremy and Fritz**I don't own FNAF. I don't own any characters/ pictures*





	1. HERE'S THE LOWDOWN

***Requests are: OPEN***

Hello there reader, and welcome to RISIBLE (Night Guard Scenarios).

**!!! I advise you read ALL that is mentioned here !!!**

** _Before continuing on to the story, please note the following:_ **

  * This story is rated 13+.
  * It all takes place in an a modern AU (with a few things resembling the "Rebornica" comics), thus not all the FNAF lore may be accurate. 
  * Since this is an AU, I will be writing the characters as **I** interpret them. (It is a "modern" AU so the characters have smartphones and know some of the latest songs 😉).
  * It's FNAF- expect some violence and gore.
  * No *cough* smut. Hints may be thrown in and there may be some suggestive themes later, but no such thing will be written out.
  * Bad language will be "bleeped" out.
  * I have many other stories, thus updates may be very slow. 

_ **Rules to remember:** _

  * **DO **comment!
  * **DO** be kind to other readers and keep them in mind.
  * **DO** request!
  * **DO** be patient. I will update when I have a presentable chapter. 😊
  * **Don't **spam/troll. Please...don't...
  * **Do **keep swearing at a minimum (don't pull a Mike Schmidt 😜).

**Let's get to it!!!**


	2. A simple day

**(Y/n)= Your name**

**(O/C/n)=Older Cousin's name**

**(Y/C/n)= Younger Cousin's name**

**(B/C/n)= Baby Cousin's name**

**(e/c)= eye colour**

**(h/l)= hair length**

**(h/c)= hair colour**

**(f/c)= favorite colour**

**Scott**

Children's laughter and shouts were heard all around. They ran around playing games like tag and patty cake or occupying themselves with the brightly coloured jungle gyms, merry-go-rounds and slides. You sat to the side on one of the swings. Gently swaying back and forth, you watched over the kids as they played. 

This actually became a daily activity for you as of recently. Your aunt and uncle (who you adore) were away on a business trip and instead of allowing them to hire someone who most likely wouldn't do the job properly, you insisted to look after your _much _younger cousins. 

You were so busy looking over the children and making sure that they were safe that you were surprised when you suddenly felt a tug at your shirt. "(Y/n)?" Looking down you are met with a terrible sight. The younger of your cousins stood there with their small hand gripping your shirt tightly- their eyes glossed over with tears. 

Immediately you pick them up and set them down on your lap. "Oh (Y/C/n), what's the matter?" You wipe the tears away with your hands. "What happened to make you so upset?"

They sniff, "My fwends don't want to pway wif me." 

You smile sadly at them. "Shhh, that's alright. Hey, why don't you stay here with me. We can play a game together. How does that sound?" And like magic, their little eyes start to twinkle.

"Yews pwease." 

You chuckle, "Alright then, what would you like to play?" They think for a bit and then points to the sandbox. "Okay! Let's go!" 

You set them down and the two of you run to the sandbox together, giggling all the way.

**Jeremy**

"-and then you simply just add them together." The young boy next to you- Matt- does as you instructed him to do. "Good! See, just follow the formula and if necessary, make a few tweaks." 

Matt looks at you with new knowledge, his eyes now reflecting his much better understanding regarding Physics. "Thank you (Y/n)! You should really think about becoming a teacher. You'd be awesome!" You smile, "I'd need money to go to college for that-" 

You are cut off by Matt's ringtone which suddenly starts blaring from within his pocket. The teenage boy looks apologetically at you as he takes it out and answers it. Half a minute later he ends the call and puts his phone away. "Sorry (Y/n). It's my mom... She wants to know when I'm done..."

"You can go if you feel like you understand everything a little better now."

He nods and starts packing his books and stationary into his bag. "I really do. Thank you _so _much for helping me. I'd be a goner without you!" 

You giggle, "You'll ace that test, I know you will. Tell your mom I said hi, will you?"

The blond-haired kid nods and rushes out the door and to his awaiting mother. "I will! Bye!" 

With a sigh you gather your things and head out as well. You have helped quite a few kids by tutoring them in many of their school subjects for little to no money asked in return- just like you did when you were still going to school yourself (which was not so long ago). 

You wave to Matt and his mother as they turn out of the parking lot and onto the road. He eagerly waves back until they disappear around a corner. 

**Fritz**

_ **'Ding!' ** _

"Order's ready!" You yell out. A few moments later one of the waiters come to pick it up and take it to the customers. Smiling, you flip another patty. It plops down onto the grill with a _'hissss' _. 

You took much pride in your cooking and you were happy to know that most everyone who ate your food enjoyed it, even some of the toughest critics. The many compliments you received daily were proof enough. 

Delicately, you place the now perfectly grilled patty onto a sesame seed bun, followed by a slice of creamy cheese, some fresh, crunchy greens and your secret sauce. "Perfect." 

** _'Ding!' _ **

With a contempt sigh, you look out the kitchen window to the families sitting in the diner. Smiling faces was all you saw all around.

_'Another perfect day for making others happy.' _

Thoughyouloved this diner and the people who came and worked here, you really wanted to open your own place. Not that you didn't like working for your boss- he was a very kind man- but you knew you couldn't just work here your whole life. You had to chase your dream. 

One of the waitresses and a good friend of yours, Stella, walks up to you with her notepad. "Final order of the day (Y/n). Think you can make it as good as the others?" She rips the paper off and hands it to you. 

You scan it over, smiling. "Of course. Cooking is an art form- one I have mastered!"

Stella giggles at your enthusiasm. "I couldn't agree more."

**Vincent**

You stood before Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. The building blocked the sun, casting a broad shadow over you and engulfing you in its darkness. 

What were you doing here when you should be sitting in a cubicle, working away at stacks of papers? Well, roughly six months ago, there was this big story that made the headlines of many of the area's newspapers. This article speaking of a young woman who killed a man in self-defense. This young woman was (Y/n) (L/n). Yes, it was out of self-preservation, but when people see the word "killed" they immediately turn the other way, not caring what the motive was. 

As possible employers turned their noses up (even though you had a college degree and the works), you were left with no choice but to take the plunge and go work at the one place that agreed to at least _interview_ you- Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

Gathering your bearings, you look from side to side. You tighten your grip on the newspaper in your hand before pushing the door open.

Colour. Many, many different hues. That's the first thing you saw when entering. Children's laughter and the singing of the animatronics came after, followed by the strong smell of greasy pizza. You scanned the room, searching for the owner's office. 

"Hello! Welcome to Freddy's! How can I help?" In what was the most overly cheery voice ever, you were greeted by the teenage boy at the door. 

You smile back awkwardly, not being able to act _that_ friendly, even if it were to save your life. "Uh, hey. I'm...I'm looking for the manager's office..." 

The boy loses his friendly exterior. "Why?" He leans in closer to you, "You aren't here to complain about anything...strange, are you ma'am?" Slightly freaked out by the kid's weird question, you lean away. 

"No. I want to work here. So would you be so kind as to point me into the right direction?" 

"Oh! Why didn't you just say so?! The Boss is right through that door!" The boy points to the door across the room. 

You nod your thanks and head over. _'That boy is probably on drugs...'_

**Mike**

The bar was bustling on this fine Saturday night. There was a big game taking place today, and many people came to the bar to watch it and celebrate (or drink away their disappointment). 

"Hey waitress! We need another round here!" 

You smile at the group of friends sitting in the corner. They were some regulars here. "You want the usual?" 

The guy nods, "It's the only thing cheap enough to be buying rounds of!" The group bellows out in a fit of laughter at their friend's joke. You spare a giggle and head to the counter to get their order. 

Declan, the owner of the bar and one of your best friends, was already busy opening five beers. "Man, the place is packed. I kinda wish it was this way every night." 

"You want a bunch of people spending their hard-earned money on booze and forgetting who they are by doing so?" you joke.

Declan chuckles, "If it means _we _get hard-earned money, then yes. Now here ya go, the booze you ordered." He slides the tray with bottles to you. "Don't spill any." 

Sticking your tongue out, you take the tray and head over to the awaiting group of friends. "I never spill!" Declan mumbles a "yeah right" and starts wiping some glasses with a cloth. 

Being a waitress at a bar may not be the best (or safest) job in the world, but at least you get to work with a friend, and you knew that he would protect you. Declan was like a brother to you, after all. Besides, you liked working here. 

You get to meet new people every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Suggestions and requests for future chapters are welcome and much appreciated!


	3. Noticing Them

** Scott **

"Did you have fun today (Y/C/n)?"

Your little cousin nodded his head vigorously. His face was covered with his chocolate ice cream treat. "Mhm!"

You made your way down the street- the oldest of your cousins was holding their younger sibling's hand, not at all minding their sticky fingers. 

"What about you (O/C/n)?"

The tween nodded their head, taking a big bite of their ice cream sandwich. "Yeah, I agree with (Y/C/n), thank's cuz! Mom and dad should go on trips more often!" 

"And be stuck with having to buy you sweets every day? I'd be broke within a week!" You and your cousins laugh (not that (Y/C/n) understood why, but you were happy so he was happy), but your happiness ends up disturbing the youngest of the family members. 

You turn your attention to the one-year-old baby in the stroller you were pushing along- small whines emitting from them. "Hey, no no no (B/C/n)... Shhh... It's okay." You stop walking and take the baby out of the stroller. "Did we wake you? I'm sorry sweet thing." You then continue to coo at them. 

"Pfffft! Grownups and babies..." The eldest rolls their eyes. 

"Yeah....Grownups." (Y/C/n) repeats, licking the last of their ice cream. 

Meanwhile, you managed to coax (B/C/n) back into sleeping. _'Thank goodness... The last thing we need is a baby crying all the way home-'_

"Hey! Loowk at that man ower there! He lookws funny!" (Y/C/n) giggles, pointing across the street. 

(O/C/n) scrunches up their face trying to see. "I think I've seen him somewhere before..."

With the baby back in the stroller, you bend down and take (Y/C/n)'s hand, stopping the pointing. "We don't point at people; it's very rude." You half-scold the child, but you _do_ look to where they were previously pointing to see what had them so amused. 

Across from you walked a man- he seemed to be very tall and thin. That wasn't too peculiar, but the red dial phone that sat where his head should've been is definitely odd. Luckily he didn't see your cousin pointing him out (or he probably just ignored it).

As he eventually got out of sight, you tore your eyes away. "Come on guys. It's time we get home." Ushering your cousins forward, you headed to their house, the strange man not leaving your thoughts.

** Jeremy **

"Thanks for helping out (Y/n)." 

You place the last book onto the rack. "No problem!"

Your friend seemed to be beeming. She owned the local bookstore- a small, cozy place on the corner of one of the busiest streets in town. She just received a shipment of some new books and had to get them stalled out before the book signing that would take place the next day. 

Lucky for her, you were willing and able to lend her a hand. 

"So, do you think you can maybe come help out again tomorrow? People are coming from all over, and I'm not sure if I'd be able to handle all of them _and _the store's regular customers. I'll pay you for your trouble." 

You wave her off, "No need. I'll do it, but don't expect me to take anything in return." You playfully wave a finger at her.

She smiles, "But that'll make me feel guilty..." 

"No (Friend/name). I don't want anything." 

"Oh come on! We both know you need money for college!" She tries to counter.

Biting your lip, you pick up a box and walk to the backroom. "Yeah, don't remind me..." you groan, "But I'm not taking your money. You need it to expand your store." 

(Friend/name) sighs. "There are more important things than buildings, (Y/n)." 

_'Yes. Your happiness.' _you think to yourself. 

You, not wanting to continue the conversation, busy yourself with carrying empty boxes into the storage room and bringing out full ones to unpack. Two hours later and you finally ran out of packaged books.

It was 7p.m. and it was time for the store to close for the day. Or so you and (Friend/name) thought. 

The door 'ting'-ed open and in stepped a young man (or boy?). There wasn't much to see since he was mostly covered by a baggy, green turtleneck sweater. His messy brown hair seemed to have been blown by the wind to make it even more tousled. Looking outside gives you the reason- he came here by bike. 

"I-I-I'm sorry. W-were you closing?" he asks, looking guilty. 

"We were, but you're always welcome. I told you before, you can come any time! I know you always buy something." Your friend smiled at the young man. They seem to know each other.

"T-thank you (Friend/name)." He stutters another quick apology and disappears amongst the rows of books.

"(Y/n), can you go lock all the windows and backdoor whilst I help our last-minute customer? You can head home, I'll close up." 

Shrugging you go do what your friend asked of you. 

_'Probably her best customer.'_

** Fritz **

"-and then he took me to this cute little place where we met up with his parents. It was so nice spending time with all of them!" 

Loading the last of the dishes into the industrial sized dishwasher, you grin as Stella chats on about how she went with her boyfriend to meet his family. 

"Well, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure that's a sign Stel." 

The waitress clenches her arms in front of her and gives you an ecxited toothy smile. "I hope so! Can you imagine? Me- married!" 

"Woah there! He has to ask you first!" you laugh at your over-thrilled friend.

Stella jumps onto the counter and starts looking through a plastic container for a pen. "So? When do _you_ plan on putting yourself out there?" 

You almost choke on your own spit. 

"Excuse me...?" 

"Oh come on (Y/n)! I haven't ever seen you in a relationship." Stella hops off- new pen held ready to write down the last orders of the day before closing time. 

"And for good reason. Stel, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm definitely _not _the typical pretty, normal girl guys go for. Besides, I don't need a man to be happy." 

"Mmmhhhmmm. Yeah, we'll talk again once you fall in love." Stella saunters off to help the costumers who just entered, leaving you to roll your eyes and get to cooking. 

_'If only I could marry food.'_

Two toasted sandwiches and some fries later, Stella returns and recites a big order. "Two cheeseburgers, a large fries, three sodas, a bacon sarmie and a large coffee- to go." 

"Wow. Is it a group of friends who ordered all that?" You get the buns ready and load the cut potatoes into the frier. 

"Nope. It's that guy right there." Stella points out the person who was supposedly going to eat that. He was busy chatting to two other people at one of the closer tables (they seem to know one another, you take notice). The man was slightly chubby, but wasn't overweight or as large as most people who came here. His curls were a flaming orange and seemed to bounce around slightly with each head movement. Two chartreuse eyes were rimmed by a pair of large glasses and his cheeks were sprinkled with small freckles. 

_'He looks kinda cute in a nerdy kind of way...' _you think whilst staring at the stranger.

Stella smirks, showing her obvious smugness. "He comes here a lot. Apparently he works all night at that pizzeria and he takes food along for the night and next day."

"..."

"(Y/n), something is burning." 

** Vincent **

Taking a deep breath to get into the interviewing-mode, you knock twice on the door with plate reading "Boss" on it. 

"Come in!" a gruff voice said from the other side.

You do so, and find yourself standing before a man you can only presume is the owner or rather, as the name plate presents, the boss. He was filling out some papers, a cigar loosely hung from between his teeth as he scribbled things down.

Discomfited, you clear your throat, "Hello, sir. I'm (Y/n) (L/n)-" 

"I know who you are." He looks up from his work and right into your eyes. 

_'Oh no. Another "no killer will work for me" scenario.' _

You were just about to explain yourself and why you really need this job when he continues. "You're the girl I spoke to over the phone," he states unperturbed. 

"O-oh...OH yes! That's me! The phone girl..." You cringe at the words after they left your mouth. 

"We already have a Phone _**Guy**_. I'm afraid we'll need to find another title for you." The cigar-puffing man says it like it's a very important manner on his hands. "But we'll get to it. So, (Y/n), can you start tomorrow?" 

Surprised, you try to form words. "Can....Can I? Tomorrow? I...Yes! I can start tomorrow!" You hastily answer. "Thank you sir, " you solemnly add afterwards. "This means a whole lot. I really need the money." 

He mutters a _"most people who take this job do" _and slides the papers he was signing before, across the desk to you. "Just sign these; and you can call me Boss. All the employees do. Now, come in earlier tomorrow night. I'll tell one of the other guards to explain everything andd get you a uniform." He gives you smile. You gladly return it (along with the signed papers) and head out of the office, giving Boss yet another 'thank you'. 

_'Finally. I have a job. Things are starting to look-' _

A shiver runs up your spine. Looking across the waves of playing children, you meet the large eyes of a stranger dressed in all-purple. Noticing that you were looking at him, he grins broadly. Not wanting to seem rude, you wave at him. He waves back, and that ends the silent greeting.

As you exited the building, the feeling of being watched lingered.

** Mike **

The joys of paying taxes. 

Your day wasn't going too well so far. First you woke up to the neighbors yelling, then you come to the conclusion that you had a leaking sink that needed to be fixed (the entire bathroom floor was wet) and finally, in your hurry to get to the bank, you spilled your scolding drink. At least you got here without any other accidents.

People stood in rows while patiently (and some impatiently) waiting for their turn to cough up the money they owed the government. 

You were one of these people.

For some stupid reason, you decided to pay up at the bank instead of paying everything online. Then again, it is safer to physically pay the amount due at the bank itself and not allow a sneaky hacker to take it off your clueless hands. Though, too bad going to the bank takes so much time and effort. At least standing here gave you time to think about...things. Like_ 'I should not've drank that large cappuccino whilst driving' _and '_how do you get coffee stains out of shirts'. _

When the thoughts started to lean into a more embarrassing direction, you moved your curious eyes to everyone around you.There were individuals of many different shapes and sizes. Some wore fancy suits and attire, others T-shirt and jeans. Some had children with them, others were alone... 

That is when a specific person draws your attention. 

"What do you mean 'we can't give you the money' !?" A man wearing a red jersey and matching beanie was hunched as far as possible over the one counter. His deep frown, clenched hands and demanding voice tone made it obvious that he was pretty pissed. 

The person on the other side of the glass seemed quite frightened. "Sir, we can't just give you the inheritance money. You still need to fill out some more paperwork-"

"I gave you all the necessary paperwork damn it!" He shuts his eyes tightly and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Listen, I need it to pay for the house. My parents' house! The one I _also _inherited when my parents died _five years ago_! For the last _five years _I've been trying to get this inheritance! I finished school, I went to college and got an associate degree, I got a job! What else do you want from me!?" 

"Sir, I need you to calm down before I call security." 

"Calm down? CALM DOWN!? You listen here bub! I've been waiting in line for three hours!-"

But he didn't listen, and you watched as the security officers came in to escort him out. 

"Alright! Alright! I can show myself out!" The guy stomps out of the building- infuriated.

Paying taxes didn't seem so boring now.


	4. Meetings

**Scott**

You casually walked down the fruit and vegetable aisle.Today was the day you dared to go grocery shopping because: 1) the cupboards, fridge _and _freezer were empty and 2) you didn't have three cousins to keep a watchful eye on all the time. 

(O/C/n) was at school, (Y/C/n) was at a friend's house for a play date, and (B/C/n) had a very happy Granny looking after them. Thank the heavens for her surprise visit...

After seeking out the best-looking produce you could find and putting it in the basket, you read through the list once again. Everything was ticked off except for one thing.

"I have to remember to get (Y/C/n) their favorite cereal..."

Not wanting to let your cousin down, you hurry to the cereal aisle on the other side of the stoor to get some (Favorite/cereal). It wasn't that hard to find, but it did prove to be a struggle to get it. 

The boxes were all splayed out on the top shelf. You tried standing on your toes, but even then you couldn't reach it. Sighing, you look around for a worker to help you.

Nothing. 

"Well, so much for helping the customers." 

But you would not give up and let the cereal win! With the utmost determination you reach back up. Inch by inch you get closer to reaching the box. "Almost...got it!" Your fingertips graze its smooth surface...and push it further back. 

"C'mon!" you huff.

"Ma'am, may I help you?" 

You turn around to face the person standing behind you. "Yes! I-I mean... Yes please. Thank yo-" 

You stop mid-thanks when noticing who it was. With mouth slightly open, you gawk at the phone-headed man. You couldn't help but stare at him, not in a bad way though- he just seemed so peculiar. He was _very _tall and lean. And then there was the dial phone...

"Oh, uhm...It's just a mask..." he tries to explain the abnormality to get you to calm down a bit and break your gaze.You could tell that he was getting self-conscious.

"Right! I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. It's just that, well, my cousins and I saw you the other day and I didn't expect to actually encounter you..." You smile sheepishly at the man and hold out your hand. "I'm (Y/n)." 

He takes your hand and shakes it, self-consciousness forgotten. "Scott." 

He then simply reaches up, takes one of the boxes and places it with the rest of your groceries. "Do you need anything else on the top shelf?" he asks sincerely. 

"No. Thank you for helping me, Scott." 

"Any time, (Y/n)." 

** Jeremy **

The whole shop was buzzing. People really _did _come from all around to get their signed copies of their favorite author's brand new book (as your friend expected).

This meant that you and (Friend/name) were both extremely busy, be it working at the register or handing out some snacks and hot drinks to guests as they waited around. 

Right now you were doing the latter. You held trays of biscuits and small pastries as you walked around, offering people some. Though you enjoyed having something to do, it was becoming tedious to keep on smiling and your arms were getting tired.

Heading back to get another tray, you spot (Friend/name) who was beckoning you towards her. "(Y/n), can you take over here while I go get some more tea for our guests?" 

"Sure." You head behind the counter. 

"Thanks! I'll be back in a while. Just help the people pay for their books." She runs to the backroom, leaving you with the eager book-lovers. 

\-----------------------------------------

Things started dialing down a bit as the signing came to an end. Some people went home, but a few still lingered to chat with the author. 

When (Friend/name) came back with teapot in hand, you pretty much begged her to stay where you were. She happily agreed and skipped off to serve earl grey.

**'Ting!'**

The store's bell rings out, signaling yet another customer's arrival. This customer in particular was, unlike most others, familiar to you. 

The same young man from the previous day walked towards you. "H-hello. I-I'm here to p-pick up a book I... o-o-ordered." He seems to stop when realising who he was talking to. The sight of you made him stutter more than usual. 

"Right, what's your name?" you ask kindly.

"J-Jeremy. J-Jeremy F-F-Fitzgerald." The poor guy was blushing a deep red. 

You type in his name and a book title along with his details pop up on screen. "Oh! (F/book)! This is a really good one." You bend down and get the book from the box underneath the counter before putting it in a bag for him. "Here you go Jeremy." 

Shaking madly, he reaches out and takes the bag. "T-t-thank y-you m-miss..." 

"(Y/n)." 

"(Y-Y/n)... That's a pretty name." Immediately he recoils as the words leave his mouth.

Your face's colour starts to mach his. "T-thank you. I really like your name too." 

He smiles shyly and nods. "G-goodbye (Y/n)." 

"Goodbye Jeremy Fitzgerald."

**Fritz**

Today was your day off. Or at least it was supposed to be. 

You spent your whole morning in bed, just relaxing and catching up on some reading. With a steaming cup of coffee/tea in hand, your attentive eyes read over the words on the page/screen. It was then that all was interrupted by your phone buzzing from its place on your bedside table. 

Putting down your reading material, you pick up your phone and read the message sent from your boss (and good friend): 

_{(Y/n), Dave couldn't come in today due to family drama. Can you come cook in his place for the day? I'll pay you for overtime.}_

You are quick to reply, not particularly minding helping those who have always been so kind to you. 

_{I'm on my way. And you better not pay me extra ya hear! ;-) }_

Swiftly you climb out of bed and get ready for work.

\----------------------------------

"You're a lifesaver (Y/N)," your boss opens the door for you. 

"It's alright. I wasn't doing anything special today anyway," you smile as you enter the kitchen. The ovens and stoves were already heated up and ready to go. Quickly you get to work getting the pans and pots ready as the diner is finally opened. 

A few people came in, all ordering breakfast. Within minutes they had a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of them. More and more people started to enter through the doors. You work your magic, and soon they were all occupied with the food before them. After two hours or so, things started to slow down.

As you created plates of food for a small group of hungry patrons, someone sat down on one of the many stools along the counter. You turn to them, smiling, "Hello, can I take your order?" 

Sudden realisation strikes as you notice that it was the man with the orange curls and glasses.

He was smiling at you, his cheeks dusted with freckles and eyes bright. "Yes please. I would like the usual."

"The usual. Right...What exactly is your usual?" Your cheeks tint pink in slight embarrassment for asking such a question. 

The man chuckles, "I'm just messing with you (Y/n). I would like some eggs and sausage please." 

"How do you know my name?" you inquire as you turn around to start making his order. 

"I know everyone who works here. The one day I asked your boss who made the amazing food and he told me it was none other than (Y/n) (L/n)," he explains as he taps his fingers to the counter. 

Minutes later you place the plate in front of him. "Here you go sir." 

"Call me Fritz." He offers you a hand, which you gladly shake. 

** Vincent **

So far so good. 

You were coping well as a security guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria. There were one or two instances with some misbehaving children getting too close to the stage or wandering where they shouldn't, but nothing too bad happened.

The other employees all showed you the ropes (some ropes weirder than others). They made sure you looked the part of a Fazbear employee by demonstrating how to act and how to dress. The security uniform you were given may not be the best looking thing, but at least it was pretty comfortable. 

The pizzeria was not too busy currently due to it being a weekday, but you were sure that things would become more hectic during the late afternoon when the children would come from school.

Another guard came in to take the afternoon shift, working with you until your shift ends around 5:30p.m. He was pretty helpful, yet seemed to constantly be on edge. _Especially_ when you got close to, or walked past, the stage.

Hours of hard work ticked by and before you knew it, it was time for your second and final break before your third part of the day shift starts. 

As you made your way into the staff room, you were greeted by another of your fellow guards- the same you saw the day before.

"Hello Dove~" The man dressed in purple grinned happily as you entered. 

"Uh...Hello," you wave to him, trying not to show your awkwardness at being called 'Dove'. 

He then overconfidently stands up and takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I'm Vincent. And may I say, you are truly a rare jem in a place like this."

You let out an awkward half-laugh, not at all expecting such an introduction. "O-Oh. Thank...you?" You clear your throat, "I'm (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)." 

It was then that something strange seemed to make its way across the man's face. His smile faltered for the briefest of moments, then returned- bigger than ever before. 

"Well then. It's a pleasure..." His grip on your hand, which he had yet to release, tightened ever so slightly as he leaned closer. "...(Y/N) (L/N)."

Then he let go without another glance. 

You watched as he disappeared out the door around the corner.

**Mike**

It was a slow day. 

First you went over to Declan's to help your friend move in to his new, much bigger, apartment. After a morning of lifting boxes and moving couches, and unpacking the boxes, you were finally finished. You offered to take Declan to go eat somewhere in order to celebrate, but he declined, wanting to just chill in his new place for a bit. You left him be and headed home.

Sitting in the thick of traffic, you tapped your fingers to the steering wheel to the song playing over the radio. '_Beep!'s_ and '_Toot!'s _could be heard all around as people became impatient. 

Slowly you moved forward, finally reaching the turnoff. As you moved off the highway, you sighed in relief. Dragging a hand down your face, you make the turn...

** _'Screeee!'_ **

Brakes are slammed as something bumps into you. Eyes wide, you look behind you to find that another car was turning off the road- its left light shattered. You do the same and come to a stop just before the pavement. 

The other person jumped out of their car before you could. They went to inspect their front bumper, hands on their head as they cursed. You got out of your vehicle and also scanned over the damage.

"WHAT THE F*CK WAS THAT!?"

You turn to face the angry man who you immediately recognised as the guy from the bank.

"YOU WERE BRAKING WHEN YOU DIDN'T NEED TO!" he seethed.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" You fold your arms. "If anything, I think _you_ were going too fast."

"Oh _I _was_-_!You know what! Fine! Just don't expect me to pay for this sh*t!" he growls. 

"Oh? Why not? Too proud to admit you were the one to do the wrong?" you fumed.

"No! I just don't have the money!" he retorted- his defense more degrading than anything else.

"Well, that's what insurance is for!" You throw your hands into the air, mockery evident in your voice and gesture. 

"Too bad I don't have insurance!" He stomps back to his car and plops down in the seat with his head in his hands.

You suddenly felt sorry for this guy. Exhaling, you walk over to him. "What's your name?" 

"What's it to you?" His voice did not hold the bite he intended. 

"I'm going to pay for your car's damage." 

He looked up in disbelief, "Y-You... There's no way I'm letting a woman like you do that."

"Too bad, because this woman _is_. What's your name?" you inquire again.

The man glared, then took up an old receipt and started writing on it with a pen he had in his pocket. When done scribbling, he got up and handed it to you. 

"Mike. Mike Schmidt." 

He got back into his car and rode off, leaving you with his number untidily written on the crumbled piece of paper.


	5. Dangerous Times

** Scott **

You were heading home. 

(O/C/n)'s school asked you if you could come in and help for the next week since one of the teachers were apparently sick and could not come in. 

You accepted since you had nothing else to do and could do with some more money. And so you spent the whole day teaching middle schoolers and marking some tests. When it became late, you decided to pack up and go home to your cousins and grandma.

The streets were aligned with lamps, lighting the path and throwing long shadows in the distance. 

...Yet the gloom still held dangers. 

"Hey there pretty lady." 

You whirl around to face a man in the shadows right next to your current position. The faint glint of steel flickered in the glow of the street lamps. The area was desolate.

"Wh-What do you w-want?" You back away, only to have a wall come in between you and your way of escape. 

"I want it. Cellphone, wallet, jewellery; all of it." He smirks devilishly. 

"I-I-I-" You panic, legs jelly under you.

"NOW!!!" The knife is thrusted in your direction with great urgency.

Shaking and breathless with fear, you go to do as was demanded from you.

Your fingers barely make contact with your cellphone, when suddenly there is a cry of pain. 

"AGH!" 

You look down at your mugger who was spitting out blood. A metal pipe clatters down next to him.

A hand grabs your wrist and yanks you into action.

"Run!" a voice yells, ushering you to move as fast as possible. 

And you did that. 

You ran; you ran as fast and as far you could. Eventually you could no longer as your lungs and muscles started to burn. 

The other person stopped, allowing you rest. They then took you by the shoulders, making you look at them. "Are you alright (Y/N)?" 

"S-S-Scott?" 

**Jeremy**

It was late afternoon and you had finished today's tutoring lesson with Matt and one other girl from his school- Ella. You were pretty sure the boy had an enormous crush on her.

Without a car to drive home you usually walked home or, in this case, to (Friend/name)'s place. Not that you minded too much. On sunny days like these, it was nice to go for a stroll around the small town. When it was rainy, however, a car would've been preferred. At least there were busses.

The signs of Autumn were starting to show all around. You could see it in the slowly colouring leaves, warm attire worn by passersby and breezes which seem to grow in strength by the day.

As you continued on your walk, teaching notes in hand, one such strong gust of wind came and tugged the papers straight out of your arms. 

"Oh shoot!" 

You rush after the flying papers as they scatter. A few were easy to grab, but some were too high or too fast. 

One sheet managed to float over the street and get caught on a traffic light's post temporarily.

Quickly looking both ways and not finding any approaching vehicles, you make a dash for it. 

What a mistake.

A speeding car moved towards your location with great momentum- its speed preventing the driver from stopping on time. 

_ **"SCREEEEEE-"** _

There were seconds left till impact.

You gasp, eyes large.

There's no time to brace for impact, so you just gawked. 

All of a sudden you felt something (that was not the vehicle) slam into your side. 

"Ah!"

You fell on the pavement, your wind knocked out. Two arms were holding you tightly- slightly shaking. Once you regained some air in your lungs, you manage to turn to face your savior. 

It was Jeremy.

**Fritz**

Turns out Dave's family drama really was _dramatic_.

Apparently someone was depressed, someone got married to a gang member and someone died. With such unfortunate events that have taken place, Dave was given time off from work.

Thus your boss had to hire a temporary cook; a temporary cook who you had to teach the way of the diner.

"You're late..." you told Zach as he stumbled into the kitchen. 

The adolescent chef fixes his skew diner-cook hat, "I'm so sorry! My bike's tire was flat and-"

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not biting your head off. Just don't be late again, okay?" You smile and hand him a pan. "Start cooking up some eggs." 

He nods, relieved that he wasn't fired on the spot. With great determination, he cracks some eggs into the pan.

But the stove wasn't on...

So for what was ten minutes, the boy could not understand why the eggs didn't want to cook. He tried adding more butter to grease up the pan, closing the lid and plying around with the dials...

Maybe the last part wasn't such a good idea...

"AAAHHH!"

"Please don't tell me that mouse is back-"

You whipped around at Zach's scream, but instead of finding what you thought was a pest of some sort, you came face to face with some burning hot flames. 

"OH SH*T!" You yank the boy out of the way as the fire grew. Soon it had spread to most of the kitchen.

You rushed to get the fire extinguisher while Zach went to evacuate the building...in a way.

He bursted through the kitchen door, arms flailing._"Attention everyone! There's a fire, so... Run! **Run for your lives!**" _the adolescent screeches and runs out the front doors. The customers all got up and hurried on after him when seeing the smoke coming from out the kitchen.

...All except one. 

You fought to put out the flames that lapped at you. Inhaling some smoke, you started coughing violently. The extinguisher wasn't doing the job and by now, you were almost surrounded by fire. 

The heat was starting to turn your flesh a bright red as you were backed into a wall. You could no longer tell where what was...

But then, like a superhero, someone came charging through the blaze.

In one swift movement, they lifted you up. 

_ **"Hold on (Y/N)!" ** _

You could barely hear the voice above the crackling and sizzling, but recognised it nonetheless. 

Fritz ran to the place where the counter was, dodging flames on the way. He then slid you over the counter's surface and jumped over next to you. 

"Hurry!" He helped you up and once again led you to the exit. 

Once outside, whether it be from experiencing so much heat or from pure panic, you collapsed.

**Vincent**

Everything was dark.

You could barely make out the shapes of the robots on stage as you passed their still forms. To have thought that what was so lively at day, suddenly became so deathly at night. 

So you _thought_...

You reached your destination- the security office. Quickly you flicked the lights on and went to get familiar with the room and equipment. 

You made your way over to the desk in the centre-back of the room. A fan and Freddy head sat idly on it, along with a monitor which showed what the cameras were seeing.

One of the other employees (who was also a night guard) had told you what to do. Apparently all that was needed of you was for you to look around on the cameras for any peculiar activity. Oh! And also look out for animitronics. Apparently they can hurt you if you weren't careful enough...

** _'Ding-ding-ding-dong...Dong-dong-ding-dong!' _ **

The chime sounds out.

It was time for you to start your very first nightshift.

\-------------------------

What did you get yourself into!? 

Two hours in and you already had to duck and cover from Toy Bonny and Toy Chica, flash a light at a certain Foxy, and then wonder why the _heck_ the withered animatronics were moving about. 

"This has to be a dream," you told yourself as you crawled to the end of the hallway, back to the party rooms. "Its just a crazy dream..." 

But it was all too real when a giant metal hand grabbed a hold of you.

You let out a shrill scream as the animatronic lifted its claw to strike at you. 

....But the blow never came.

Out of nowhere you were shoved out of the way. The force caused you to fall onto the party room's floor. You heard something rip behind you. 

Breathing rapidly, you looked up to see Vincent standing there with a huge cut. The blood gushing wound stretched from his shoulder down to his side. 

"Go!" He yelled, but you were stuck in plance. With wide eyes you watched how he punched the monster with his good arm.

It staggered back, giving the guard enough time to run and grab you.

He ran past the rest, straight out the now unlocked front door then secured it shut once again.  
Both of you were panting as you glanced back to see if the animatronics followed.

"They did not hurt you, did they Love?" Vincent suddenly asked as he gripped you arms. He was slightly out of breath, but otherwise...unharmed.

You stared wide eyed at his shoulder.

_The wound was gone..._

But...his purple shirt was torn. 

**Mike**

"Table fifteen's drinks." Declan pushed the tray your way. 

"I'm a waitress at a _bar_, Declan, not some 50's diner. I know which drinks are who's." You take the tray, hip cocked to one side as you smirked. 

"Then go be a good bar waitress and give our thirsty customers some drinks. Whooo!" Your friend cheers you on with a little too much fake enthusiasm before going to wipe out a glass with the towel hung over his shoulder.

Snorting, you go give the people their beverages. 

Another customer entered, you catching them in your peripheral vision. Grabbing your tray from the table, you head over without a second glance. 

"Hi there, can I get you anything?" You gather up some empty bottles from a nearby table.

"Yeah. Can I have a beer please?"

You turn to them, "Sure thing. Is that all-?" 

Before you sat none other than Mike Schmidt. The man seemed exhausted...

He seemed just as surprised when noticing who the person taking his order was as some of the tiredness in his eyes vanished. "You?" 

"Me," you smile. "How've you been Mike? You got your car fixed yet?" 

Mike sighs, "Look, I can't take your money..." he trails off, not knowing what to call you. "Dammit! I don't even know your name. I'm such an a**hole!"

"(Y/N)," you say. 

"Sorry... (Y/N)." He clears his throat. "But like I was saying, I'm not taking your money. I got a promotion at one of my jobs and I'll be able to pay off the expenses, and there's no way I'm letting a _woman_ do something like that for a _capable_ man like me."

"You got something against woman?" You glare.

"Only ones who act all nice when really they think you're a loser."

"It's a good thing there are no such girls here then." You got back to the bar counter to go get the beer, blood starting to boil at Mike's rudeness.

Then you get catcalled.

"Hey sweetheart! Why don't you-_'hick!'-_ come sit here on my lap and-_'hick!'-_ take a break?" A guy, obviously drunk, slurs. 

"I think you had enough to drink sir." You continue on your way, suddenly becoming tired of having to deal with males.

As you pass, he decides to grab hold of your butt. He then gets up and holds you tightly to him, not allowing you escape. The reek of alcohol on his breath was vile as he leaned closer.

"HEY YOU!"

The drunk is tackled off you.

He was then launched onto the table.

Glass shattered.

Mike held him down by the collar as he glowered daggers- cuts were bleeding all over his arms, but he did not notice or did not care.

"What do you think you're doing grabbing a lady like that you motherf*ck*r!?"


	6. Thank you's

**Scott**

  
"S-S-Scott?" 

The phone-mask guy nodded. "Yes. Yes, it's Scott." He bent down a bit more. "(Y/N), are you alright? He didn't harm you?" he inquired again. 

"N-No...No, I'm fine." You clench your hands, trying to stop the trembling. "I'll be okay. J-Just a little shaken..."  
  
The tall man looks at you with sympathy, "I'm taking you to the hospital to make sure."  
  
You were quick to shake your head. "Thank you Scott, but that won't be necessary..." You placed a hand over his which was still on your shoulder, "...really."  
  
"(Y/N), I can't just let you go after something like that. There could be complications..." He searched your eyes to find a hard truth- you couldn't pay any medical bills. Not when it may not even be necessary to go to the hospital. He sighs, knowing he couldn't force you. "Do you have anyone home? Family or a... significant other or...or a pet?"  
  
"Yes, I do. My grandmother and my younger cousins..."  
  
Scott nodded and softly escorted you to his car. "I'm taking you home. It's safer than having you go by yourself." This time you didn't decline his offer. When seated in the passenger's side of the vehicle, Scott did as he said. He asked for directions, which you gave to him, and set off en route.  
  
It was a tense drive. Your mind was racing as the events played out in your head over and over again. The "what if" 's started haunting you as you thought of all the tragic ways things could've ended.

Your eyes flickered to the driver's seat. It was impossible to see Scott’s face, but the hands clenching the steering wheel to where they colour white and his worried-calm aura spelled it out for you: he was stressing over you.

“Scott?”

The phone turns your way ever so slightly. “Yes?”

A sudden sting in the eyes causes you to blink a few tears into existence. They travel down your cheeks to your chin. “Thank you.”

The car slowly came to a standstill. Your uncle and aunt's house was to your left, right behind Scott. He brought you home as promised.

“No thanks needed (Y/n). Just...promise me you'll be okay?”

“...I promise."

**Jeremy**

Your body shook...

You felt the pavement under your palms… The hard surface was supporting your spine and shoulder blades…

You were definitely on your back.

Two arms clutched your biceps.

Jeremy…

"J-Jeremy...?"

You were the first to sit upright, a trembling Fitzgerald following seconds later. All noise was shut out as you stared down the street over his shoulder. The vehicle which almost ran you over had sped on, the driver not even bothering to look back. Jeremy tried to say something, you could tell, but nothing managed to escape him. You felt numb as the dread of what could have happened settled.

Bystanders gathered around. Some were on their phones, calling for help. Others were either coming to your aid or just looking on, unsure of what to do.

None of this reached you.

All that made it through your dazed mind was the image of the young man who was gripping your arms as if his _own_ life depended on it. Jeremy's entire body quivered, yet his face held something of a determined bravery.

Slowly you gained consciousness of your surroundings as sirens drew near.

"Jeremy?" He seemed to still be panicking– his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. You reached a hand over and placed it over his, gently prying them off.

"...I-I'm s-s-so sorry…" The hands slowly release your biceps. "I didn't… Y-You w-were in t-t-trouble and I j-just…"

"Jeremy," you placed your hand on his shoulders and looked right at him, "Thank you. Thank you for s-saving my life."

He took a deep breath. The gesture helped him to recover from his own stupor. Slowly he calmed down. The trembling ceased. A small smile crept onto his face.

The sirens stopped as three paramedics ran up to the two of you. They immediately asked questions, which were answered by the bystanders. You and Jeremy just kept on focusing on each other.

**Fritz**

Your chest constricted and expanded in a slightly painful rhythm. One, two, three, four…

Air entered your lungs.

One, two, three, four…

You started coming to. Something warm pressed against your mouth. More hot air inflated your lungs. The warmth then retreated. A heavy cough racked your body. Slowly your eyes fluttered open. Everything was blurry.

"(Y/N)! Thank the stars!" Two arms hoisted you up from the hard surface you were lying on and carried you somewhere. Your head spun as you were placed down on something soft. "Can you hear me? I need you to give me a sign."

Your vision became more focused, allowing you to make out the things around you– the most prominent of which was the face of Fritz hovering over you. By the scrunch of your face, he relaxed. "Strange sign, but I'll take it."

"F-Fritz?"

"Yup! Don't worry (Y/N), the ambulance is on its way. You might be suffering from smoke inhalation." His face drew back as he sat down beside you to readjust his jacket which you were laid out on. "You passed out and I gave you CPR. The fact that you are awake and able to talk is a huge relief."

"There… was a fire…" You coughed again. Your head was still dizzy as you remembered everything that took place. The flames, the faulty fire extinguisher, how he saved you... "Thank you."

"It was nothing (Y/N)." He placed a hand on your shoulder. "You just try to relax until the real help gets here, alright?"

Your throat hurt slightly and your voice was raspy as you spoke. "No, seriously, thank you... Fritz. From now on, you eat on the house. I'll...pay for you."

He let out a chuckle. "Thanks! But, I can't do that. I'll pay for myself, just sneak me some extra fries or something." Fritz winked an eye behind his glasses. You smiled thankfully at him.

** Vincent **

"What the f*ck just happened!?" You yanked your arms out of Vincent's grasp. "How the f*ck are you uninjured!? I saw the blood!" It was true. Even as you stood, the entire one side of his shirt was black with the substance, yet there was no laceration to produce it.

The man simply shrugged. "It wasn't that serious."

"Not that serious!?" You threw your arms up into the air. Your breathing was ragged. "We could've been killed! We _were_ almost killed! We were…!" Your knees felt weak out of the blue, making you decide to sit down on the parking lot sidewalk.

Everything became silent as you tried to concentrate on your breathing. Vincent just stood next to you, frowning at nothing in particular.

It all made sense to you now. Why else would they hire you? They were desperate for desperate suckers at life like you. A sour laugh of disbelief bubbled to the surface."So this is why so many people warned me that this isn't the best place to work– even for a murderer like me..."

"You murdered someone?" Vincent asked casually. "How'd that go?"

You lifted an eyebrow at the man's neutral reaction, but shrugged it off. Placing your head in your palms, you sighed. "It's a long story. All you need to know is that it was an accident."

"How did you kill them?"

_Why was he so curious? _"I shot them." _Why were you telling him all this?_

You were abruptly yanked to your feet by a grinning co-worker. He dragged you to a very dark mauve coloured car, mumbling _"Should've used a knife."_

You dig your heels into the absalt. "What are you doing?"

He walked around you and opened the car door, waiting to the side for you to get in. "I'm taking you home."

You were stunned. _How was he so calm?_ "What about the animatronics? The shift?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head, Love. I've got it all covered." His grin grew with a malicious glint.

Throwing one last glance at your workplace, you got into the vehicle. Vincent closed your door for you then got into the driver's seat. As he started the car, you reluctantly reached out to place your hand over his. He shot you a questioning look.

You took a deep breath. "Thank you."

"No worries, Love. As long as I'm around, nothing and no-one will touch a single hair on your head."

** Mike **

It took five guys to pull Mike from the drunk. The man was dragged out of the front door and Declan pulled you and Schmidt to the back of the bar, out of the sight of any patrons.

"You two stay here. I'm going to go to calm everyone down," Declan poked a thumb towards the door. "(Y/N), you know where the first aid kit is." And so he left you to your own ventures. Awkwardly, you retrieved the kit, Mike's eyes following your every move.

Noisily dragging a chair behind you, you cleared away some boxes containing booze. This seemed to annoy the man in the room as he clenched his teeth. You plopped down on the chair and motioned for him to take a seat in front of you. "Let me clean your cuts."

"No thanks. I can do it myself."

You rolled your eyes and continued to take out some bandages. "I _insist_."

"No, _I _insist. You've already gotten me into enough trouble the past week," he bit out.

_That was it. _You abruptly flung up, grabbed his collar and brought him down into a sitting position (nearly flinging him to the floor). "Put your sorry a** on the chair Schmidt," you not so carefully took hold of his arm to take a better look. "And don't you _dare _say that the harassment was my fault!"

All became silent.

Mike simply sat, not uttering a peep as he watched you clean and bandage each of his cuts. He didn't even make a sound when you gently touched his arms, even though you could tell he was becoming self-consciously flustered. _What was he thinking about?_

"..."

"I'm sorry." The words came as a surprise. You made no move to look up from your work.

He sighed. "I know this whole thing wasn't your fault." Your eyes came up to meet Mike's as he continued. "It was that b*stard who groped you." His fists clenched, once again eager to make contact with the drunk's jaw.

You let out a deep exhale as well and finished up. "Thank you, Mike."

Silence ensued again. He gave no response– just staring at you in thought. You were about to get up when…

"Can I borrow your phone please?"

You pondered over the request first. "Well," you took the device out of your pocket, "Since you asked so nicely..."

Mike snatched it up and quickly dialed a number. "Barry? Yeah, sorry for calling so late, but ya might wanna look out for a whiney b*tch and his lawyer's phone call." The person on the other end spoke a short sentence."What did I do?" Mike laughs, his blue orbs meeting yours as they light up. "He harassed a girl and I beat the f*ck out of him. I called you in case he wants to press charges…" Barry said something again. Mike smirked and ended the call with a "Thanks Bar" prior to hanging up.

"Gotta love that guy." Your hands brushed lightly as he handed you your phone back. "He's the only lawyer who's willing to deal with all my sh*t."


	7. Messages

** _ Scott _ **

Your head was constantly buzzing as you slept– a soft ringing that carved through your nightmare filled world of make-believe. 

It was during the worst of them, with images of strong hands gripping and tearing at your clothes, that the sudden trill saved you from finding out what the abyss was truly like. 

Your eyes shot open as your heavy breathing slowed down. It took a while, but your sight eventually adjusted to the bright sunlight filtering in through your bedroom curtains. 

Your phone buzzed once again from under your pillow. You must have fallen asleep on it.

Rubbing a hand over your face, you unlocked it and skimmed over the many missed call notifications and messages in your inbox. Some were from (most likely worried) co-workers; others from friends and family members. There was, however, one message that stood out from the rest. 

It was from an unknown number, yet the messenger's identity was no secret. Your lips perk up slightly as you read the text. 

_ **Hi (Y/n). I got your number from a colleague at the school. Just want to make sure you're okay. ** _

_ **Scott.** _

You quickly read all your other messages, but not a single other one evoked the same heartwarming feeling. Thus he was the first person you wrote back to. 

_ **Hi! Yeah, I'm fine thanks to you.** _

You slowly worked on answering the other texts when your phone received a notification. Another message from the masked man.

_ **Whenever you feel like it, just give me a call. ** _ **📱👈**

And you decided that you would do exactly that.

** _Jeremy_ **

After the incident, Jeremy thought it important to stay in touch. Apparently it would help with the healing process if you spoke to someone you trusted after such a shocking event.

You were pretty certain that you were _his_ trusted person much more than he was yours.

_ **Heya!** _

_ **You holding up?** _

_ **Yeah** _

_ **you?** _

It was as if you could just hear the sweet boy's timid voice asking you.

_ **Definitely doing better now** _

_ **Thanks for talking with me :)** _

There was a slight delay in which you quickly finished preparing lunch. It was when you sat down to eat that the notification pinged.

_ **Thank you too** _

_ **this really means a lot to me** _

_ **we should meet up in person for a face to face therapy session** _

Just as you wanted to agree...

** _Only if you want to though_ **

"Aw!" you cooed. Jeremy was just the nicest cinnamon roll you have ever had the pleasure of doing self therapy with.

** _Just give me a time and place_ **

** _thank you (y/n)_ **

** _Fritz_ **

You hummed happily as you cooked the next order on the gas stove outside. 

The diner had closed temporarily so the kitchen could be fixed, but instead of allowing your friend to go out of business, you offered to start cooking outside. By the groups of people sitting about outside on blankets and at the tables carried out, you could tell that it was a good idea. 

When finishing, you take out your phone and scroll through your contacts. You select one, and start typing a message: 

_ **Hey! It's (Y/n)! How do you like your eggs?** _

A heartbeat after, Fritz replies. 

** _Hi (Y/n)! like em soft. _ **

** _Why you ask?_ **

** _Ps hope you're doing okay :) _ **

You grinned. Leave it to this guy to always be sweet. 

** _Because I'm making you breakfast as soon as you come in today._ **

_ **In that case i'll come early! :D** _

No more than twenty minutes later, you were greeted by the red hair and bright smile of Fritz. 

_ **Vincent** _

You had to have fallen asleep in the car, for you woke up laying snugly in your bed. In fact, you most likely would not have gotten up if it was not for the excessively loud phone notification signalling that you've got mail. Why couldn't the world just leave you to sleep...? 

_'How did I get to my bed?'_

The unclear memories from last night flickered through your groggy mind. Vincent must've carried you, but how did he get into your home? You were certain-- absolutely certain-- that your door was locked... To confirm your suspicions, you shrugged on the warmest piece of clothing closest to you to shield you from the chilly early morning air and went to your front door. 

You tugged on it.

_'Locked...'_

A bit unnerved, you went back to bed and took your phone to read the message. 

** _Hello lovely_ **

With a soft sigh, you fall back onto your mattress. 

_ **Hello Vincent** _

_ **Hope you're rested. You were tired last night. You make cute faces when you sleep. ** _

You blinked at the odd message. Before you can even fathom how to reply, another message comes through.

** _I made you some toast. It's on your side table._ **

You look over and, true to his word, your co-worker really did leave you a piece of toast on your bedside table. With a shrug, you reach out and take a bite.

** _Thanks_ **

** _You are welcome lovely_ **

** _Mike_ **

He may have been sneaky, but you definitely noticed the new contact in your phone's database. Yes, Mike Schmidt added himself to your contact list after calling his lawyer. When first noticing it, you thought it was an unsaid invitation: _Call if you need me. _

Yet you never thought you would receive a message from Mike first.

You were simply lounging around when the notification popped up. A smile crept onto your face.

** _hi._ **

** _need you to tell the cops wht happened to get the drunk a**hole arrested_ **

** _you're a witness_ **

** _hurry_ **

Of course he would be blunt... 

_ **Goodmorning Mike** _

_ **Sure** _

_**B*tch, I'm THE witness **_ (T_T)

** _Where to?_ **

Seconds later a new text came through.

_ **plice station, duh** _

With your smile widening ever so slightly, you put on some shoes and head for the door. 

_ **On my way.** _

_ **Thnx again** _

_ **sure thing doll** _

_ **now get here befre they arrest me instd** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! More chapters to come!


	8. A/N: Yes, I still live

Hello Reader! Long time no write!

That, of course, would be due to the ever weird year that is 2020. 

I'm afraid my final year of high school has left (and is still leaving) me with little time to spend on the things I truly want to do. Throw a pandemic into the mix and the whole school system starts to flounder, leaving us with too many uncertainties.

Which brings me to the point: I have no idea when precisely my books will be updated. 

Don't misunderstand, I write each second I get the chance, but that usually only adds one or two sentences. I will have to wait until later this year to truly be able to sit and write.

But, since I can't just give bad news, I will be taking a gap year next year in which I am going to work on not only ALL my fanfiction books, but my own book series which I hope to sell someday as well! 

So, until then, I have decided to officially make use of my Tumblr.

[mixnotec.tumblr.com/](http://mixnotec.tumblr.com/)

Here you can ask me anything regarding my books, future plans, what I ate for lunch, etcetera.

Thank you for sticking around. Please, stay safe, stay positive and stay awesome! 

_Mixnote out~🎵🎧_


	9. You run into each other

** _Scott_ **

It was a nightmare situation. 

Due to several strikes by public transport workers in different sectors taking place, there were not enough busses to handle the massive amounts of passengers. 

One of which, was you.

As the bus stopped, you quickly got on, ready to take a seat, relax and listen to some music before having to go to another work meeting. This, however, did not seem to be the case as you shuffled farther and farther through the rows of seats, finding none empty. When reaching the near back, you simply gave up.

"Welp! Guess this means I'll just stand for half an hour–" 

"Excuse me Miss, but you can have my seat if you want." You caught the movement of the man next to you as he got up.

You turned to the kind gentleman with a big smile. "Really? Thank you–... Scott?" 

The red masked man tilted his head, just as surprised as you were. "(Y/n)? Hello! How are you?" 

"I'm doing great!" You readjusted your bag's strap over your shoulder. "You?" 

"Eh, work's got me running around, but otherwise I'm still alive, so that's good," he spoke, an obvious hint of nervousness reflecting in his voice. He didn't seem to enjoy his job, you noticed.

"Yeah..." Silence fell after that. It stretched on too long to be comfortable, only interrupted when you stumble slightly as the bus moves again, bumping you against Scott. He hurriedly put out a hand to grab you. Your face flushed.

"Y-You know," Scott motioned to the now empty seat beside him, "my offer still stands." 

"Oh, no. I mean, I appreciate your offer but–" your eyes dart from his mask to the seat and then back again, "I can't possibly..." 

"(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?" 

"Please sit down so I can stop worrying." 

You frowned. "Worrying about what?"

"You, Miss (L/n). It seems to be the new normal ever since the incident."

"Oh, yes, _that_." Your attention flickers to the outside world as your thoughts took on the shape of your assailant and saviour (that being the man standing before you now).

You bite your lip as you make your decision. When the last bit of hesitance leaves, you nod and sit. "I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble, Scott. Thank you." 

"It's alright (Y/n), really! I just..." he readjusted his grip on the roof bar. "I don't have a lot of people I care for in my life, so I guess I just can't help myself from wanting my friend to be safe and comfortable, ya know?" 

"I'm your friend now, am I?" you smirked playfully. Scott chuckled and reached for the back of his neck. He was about to apologise when you continued. "Then, as a friend, I would like to make it all up to you by inviting you out. Does coffee sound good? What time fits you?" 

"W-Well," he managed as he grasped for composure, "my shift ends at 6 am..." 

"Every morning at 7 it is then!" 

"_Every_ morning?" 

"Sure! Why not?" 

"That..." Scott cut his own objection off. After a night of fighting off monsters, he deserved to treat himself, so why not? "You know what? Yes, I would like that. Shall I meet you at the shop on Cassidy Street?" 

"Definitely!" 

The rest of the ride was filled with comfortable conversation ranging from what each of you enjoyed doing in your free time to a friendly argument on whether ketchup should be allowed on eggs. Before you knew it, the bus stopped at your destination.

You sprang up and checked to see if you had everything. "This is where I get off." You gave your friend one last wave, gaining one in return. "See you tomorrow at seven Scott!"

** _Jeremy_ **

Most friends usually go out to the mall to buy clothes, watch a movie and eat at the food court. That is precisely what you and (F/n) did. You just did it in an unconventional way.

Of course, you ate at the food court (who doesn't like food), and you definitely went to watch the midday showing of the new film you both were dying to see (much to your geeky delight). The clothes, however, were not your normal tank tops, socks and sneakers. That is unless your character wore any of those things...

A rush of laughter burst from (F/n)'s wide mouth as she watched you trying, and failing, to pull off a dwarf beard. "You look like Santa!"

"Hey! I thought I looked pretty good!" you objected, spitting some strands of fake beard from your mouth. "Why don't you put something on?"

(F/n)'s phone went off just as she was going to answer. She put her finger into the air in a give-me-a-second gesture as she pulled it out. "Hello?" Several lines of dialogue came from the other end, your friend only humming and giving short replies. "Okay... Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes. See you then." The call ended and (F/n) looked you in the eyes. "I'm sorry (Y/n), but the delivery truck just arrived at the shop. I need to get there immediately."

You hung the beard back onto the hanger. "I thought they weren't due until tomorrow?"

"They weren't, but apparently they sent my boxes with a different courier this time." She glances at her watch. "I can get there and back in twenty minutes. Stay here and... find another cosplay buddy!" She rushes to the store's door. "Best of luck to you, traveller!"

"Except you're the traveller and I'm–! Nevermind." Your dear friend was already out the door. With a shrug and fond smile, you head off on your new quest.

\-------------------------

So far you were failing. Not a single person you asked seemed interested, or if they were, they could not stay.

So you threw in the towel and went to retrieve your Santa beard.

However, when you reached the isle, your fuzzy prop was not in its place. Looking around, you found it on someone else chin.

"(Y-Y/n)!" squeaked a voice from beneath the hairy depths.

"Jeremy? Hey!"

"H-Hello!" The shy young man slowly sunk his head deeper into the cloak hood he wore as if trying to conceal his face in its darkness. "W-What are you..." He takes a moment to recompose himself. "What are you d-doing here?"

"Cosplaying." You point to his face. "I was wearing that beard earlier."

"O-Oh!" Jeremy started to fiddle with his sleeves. "Do you w-want it back...?"

"Nah." You walked closer, grabbing some curly red facial hair off the rack. "It fits you way better."

The brunette smiled timidly. "What are you d-dressing up as?"

"Nothing specific. (F/n) and I was just goofing around. Y'know, trying to make up new characters." You choose a pair of funny green gloves and put them on. "How do I look?"

"Like a Leprechaun d-drag queen," Jeremy giggled. However, as soon as the sweet sound came, it died down and the kind young man once again crept back into his shell. "I-I..."

Seeing the burn of embarrassment on his fuzz-covered cheeks, you quickly interject. "Hey, Jere? Do you want to join me?"

He became quiet– very reluctant to agree.

So you prodded. "Please? Just one or two outfits?" You clutch your hands in front of you.

"O-O..." His smile returned, more genuine than ever. "Okay. What d-do you want to dress u-up as first?"

** _Fritz_ **

The barking was deafening when you came in. The senior caretaker closed the gate and you were greeted by wagging tails and flopping ears.

The caretaker, Danny, chuckled. "They missed you."

"Or they just think we're bringing lunch," you jested as you walked up to the first pup and pet his head. The affection rewarded you with an enthusiastic lick to the palm. The other canines all yipped, also seeking your attention. "Who'm I working with today?"

Danny motioned for you to follow. He took you farther down the hallway to a pen with two smaller pups. "This is Axel."

The brown and white puppy slinked towards you, his tail-wagging hindering him from walking properly. You knelt down and rubbed his back.

"And that is Kira," Danny gestured to the other black puppy patiently waiting for her turn.

You smiled and reached out to give her some love too. "Hello you two, what do you say we go for a walk?"

\---------------------------------

The leads made a small 'clink' sound with each paw step, filling the air with the sound of tiny bells. Axel, the hyperactive boy he was, took the lead. His spotted head would look around to make sure you and his sister were still keeping up every now and then.

Your party slowed down when Kira stopped to sniff at an interesting new smell. You allowed her to explore, happy to see her engaging in some normal dog behaviour, but her brother wouldn't have it.

With a yip and a tug, Axel yanked his leash from your grip. You stumbled to your knees. "Axel! No!"

His wagging tail disappeared around the corner, leaving his sister and a panicking woman behind.

"Bad boy Axel!" Kira made no sound as you plucked her off the ground to dash after the scoundrel.

But it was too late to catch him.

As soon as you came around the corner, Axel was no longer running. Instead, he was wagging his tail in the arms of none other than a very familiar redhead.

"Fritz!"

His chartreuse eyes met yours and he smiled. "(Y/n)! How are you?"

"Better now that I don't have to chase after this guy." You went to pet the pup wriggling in Fritz's steady embrace.

Fritz chuckled. "He's a hyperactive little guy, isn't he?" He gently pried the leash out from under the mutt and gave it to you.

"You have no idea. But hey, " you took the lead, "it's just the sort of drama I signed up for when I volunteered."

"You're a volunteer too?" It was then that you noticed the shy boxer peeking out from behind Fritz's trousers. He noticed and smiled. "This is Bobster. He's one of the dogs I regularly help out with. We go way back, " Fritz rubbed between the older canine's ears, "Right bud?"

And like magic, the shyness melted away.

"He's wonderful." You giggle as 'Bobster' came to sniff your hand.

"Yeah, it's a shame no-one's picked him up yet. He's an amazing dog and will definitely make someone very happy."

You placed Kira on the ground "Why don't you adopt him?"

Fritz's gaze fell. "My landlord doesn't allow pets. Otherwise, I would've taken him home a long time ago."

As you were about to respond, another tug brought your attention to Axel who was once again becoming restless.

"Heh, looks like you need to get a move on." The redhead took his own dog's lead and gently urged Bobster to follow. "I'll see you around (Y/n)!"

"Yeah," you waved him off. "Yeah, of course."

_ **Vincent** _

There was just something about the sight of o artefacts and the smell of old books that brought forth a sense of wonderment.

It was one of the best antique shops in the area. They often had auctions which you would go to but, due to your lack of hundreds (sometimes thousands) of dollars, would not take part in.

Today, however, there was no auction.

The scent of parchment and ink filled the mystical atmosphere as you wandered about the columns of manuscripts. With nowhere to be and nothing to do, you had the marvellous opportunity to get lost in a search for the latest wonder of your (very slowly) growing collection. It had to be old, in good condition, and interesting.

Your eyes caught exactly that.

Right above you sat a book with the prettiest spine you had ever seen. Gold wove together winding patterns of red, light blue and orange. Excitement bubbled up and you reached up to take it.

As you got on your toe tips, your hand grasped the spine...

Then the book disappeared– held by a set of slender fingers.

"What the... Hey!" You huff and stomp to the next row to find the book thief. Low and behold!

"Well well well..."

You froze on the spot as pearly eyes glance up at you from the first page of the – _your_ – book.

"Hello there love. Fancy meeting you here."

"Vincent! What are you doing!?"

Your strange co-worker sauntered over, paging through the book with a monstrous grin. "Why, isn't it obvious? I'm reading."

"Reading _my_ book! I had it in my hand when you took it."

"But that would mean that you didn't have it, wouldn't it?" As if possible, his smug grin grew wider. "You know what they say, dove." The gem was dangled above your head, just out of reach. "Finders keepers."

"Fine." You turned on your heels, fully intending on leaving Vincent to steal books to his evil heart's content, but you did not get far. A hand shot out to grab your wrist and pull you back.

A soft 'oof' escaped you when your back came into contact with Vincent's front.

"Not so fast lovely," he purred. The book was slid into your hand. "I still have to explain just how special this book is."

"So you can rub it in my face?" You tried moving away, but the tall man held fast.

He stayed silent for the briefest of moments, eyes drinking you in. Then he spoke: "This book is more than 90 years old." He released your wrist and took a step back. "There were only 50 copies ever made and published." Vincent scanned the bookshelf for a publication he fancied. "And I would like to buy it for you since it's quite expensive."

You lifted a brow. "How do you know so much about it?"

The purple-clad man shrugged. "Can't a guy have hobbies?"

"You collect vintage objects?"

"Is this really the strangest thing about me to you?"

No, it was not, but you weren't about to say it aloud.

With a beep of his watch and a small growl of annoyance, Vincent closed the book he was holding and made his way back to your side. "Here," he handed you several hundred dollar bills, "I have to go to work. Find yourself another book.

The man started walking for the exit but paused to address you a final time. "If you'd like to see more, come over to my house. I'll give you a tour."

He left you, his wide smile never wavering.

** _Mike_ **

You may not be the sort of person to go on an I-want-it-all shopping spree each weekend of your life, but when your favourite t-shirt and sweats started becoming see-through, you knew it was time for some new apparel.

As fate would have it, today was the day each store you went to had massive sales (it was probably after or nearing some holiday you couldn't remember). That meant buying all the marked down clothes you could afford– and that was a lot.

The bags draped in clusters over your arms crinkled with every step as you made your way to your car. The added weight of the mismatched articles threw off your equilibrium and hindered your sight of the ground and doors in front of you. 'Why didn't I just use a damn shopping cart?'

Craning your neck to see past the heap of paper and plastic, you shuffle along towards the exit. The glass doors slid apart to allow you through.

You and one other person.

"OOF!" Your arms were emptied as they rammed into you. Some of the bags' contents peeled out onto the floor while you regained balance.

"Sh*t!" Two arms shot out to steady you. "Sorry! I... (Y/n)? Sh*t!" Mike Schmidt swore. "I didn't see you." When realising he was still holding your shoulders, he hurried to lower his hands to his sides as casually as he possibly could. "F*ck. Sorry."

You grumbled under your breath and scanned the scattered articles on the floor. You bent down to pick the closest up. "Why in such a hurry, Schmidt? Running away from the police?"

"No. There were no new incidents yet." He joined you on the floor and reached for the closest bag. "I'm late for work." He took a shirt and tossed into the sack, the complete opposite of your delicate folding and depositing. A quick glance at him showed that he was wearing a mechanic's uniform.

"Oh. Well, don't let me hold you up." You wanted to reach out and take the full bag from Mike, but he intervened.

"No no," Picking up the pace, he got up and gathered up the rest. "Let me help you carry all your sh*t." He took your stuff without waiting for you to accept the offer and headed outside.

Shrugging, you followed. Mike took long steps, forcing you to walk a bit faster in order to catch up. He went one way, stopped in his stride, and turned back around to face you. "Where's your car?"

"This way." You gesture for him to follow you (in the opposite direction he was heading previously). He does so, breathing out another curse. Onc reaching your vehicle– which still had a dent in its rear bumper from your first encounter with the man currently helping you– you unlocked it.

Without a word, the blue-eyed man deposited the paper and plastic bags into the trunk. "Thanks again, Mike. You really didn't have to, you know?"

"Was nothing." He smirked, "Guess I just can't stand seeing a fair maiden in peril."

"Oh-ho, maiden am I? Who was the one who paid for your headlight?"

"The same maiden who apparently didn't pay for her _own_ damages, by the looks of that thing." Mike strokes a hand over the dent. "You should bring her to the shop I work at now to get fixed up. I'll send you the location."

"Sounds good," you said with a smile.

"Alright then, see you around..." Mike waved awkwardly as he shuffled away. 

You returned the gesture, "Yeah, definitely..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but here's the next chapter! I hope everything's going well with you all!


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